You Come and Go
by Dresupi
Summary: Fred thinks Hermione's ashamed of him, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Maybe if they'd spent more time talking than snogging, this wouldn't be an issue, but honestly... who would rather talk than snog? Fremione. One Shot. Fred/Hermione. Post Hogwarts. Everyone lives. Not epilogue compliant. Not canon compliant.


**I wrote this as part of my 1980s song prompts series on tumblr. This was prompted by an anon prompter, and the song is 'Karma Chameleon' by Culture Club (1983). It's cross posted on tumblr and ao3. I'm Dresupi everywhere. *wink***

 **Enjoy!**

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Hermione summoned her knickers, and was surprised when they flew into her hand from across the room. "My goodness, you certainly chucked those, didn't you?"

Fred smirked from his current position on the bed: arms tucked behind his head as he watched her attempt to dress. "As I recall, __you__ were the one in a hurry to get them off."

"You say that as if my plans didn't benefit you __immensely__."

He chuckled, rolling over to wrap his arms around her still bare waist, inhibiting her from going anywhere, much less continuing on her endeavor to clothe her nude form. Sighing, he nuzzled against her waist in a way that made her pause. "Fred?" she asked, reaching down to run her fingers through his hair. "Is something the matter?"

"Nothing that can't wait until you aren't in a hurry."

Hermione dropped her bra onto the floor from whence it came. "I'm not in a hurry now…" She lay back down on the bed, welcoming his head as he pillowed it on her abdomen. "Tell me."

"Well… at the risk of sounding like a tosser, I have a question for you," he began.

"A question that makes you sound like a tosser…" she mused aloud.

"Well, I mean… __hopefully__ it won't. But it might. So I guess there's your warning, 'Mione."

She braced herself for whatever it might be, passing the agonizingly slow seconds by dragging her fingertips through Fred's hair. "Consider me warned."

"Why haven't you told anyone about us yet?" he asked.

Hermione was so surprised by the question that she stammered a couple times, unable to form the words.

"I mean, I understand if it's because of your work or something, but I mean… I'd like to know… I'm very excited about you and I starting things up and keeping them up, but if you think it's going to hurt your chances at the Ministry… I guess I could do this in secret for as long as you wanted. But if it's just something like you don't wanna hurt Ron's feelings or whatnot, I'd like to know. Because Hermione, it's been __years__ since you two dated and–"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Hermione interjected. "Before you go a step further into your rambling, what makes you think that it was __me__ who wanted to keep it quiet? I thought that was what __you__ wanted!"

He snorted out a laugh. "Why would __I__ want that?"

"You were the one who lied to George when he asked what we were doing in the storeroom."

"I lied __for__ you," Fred insisted. "I thought that maybe a nice girl like you wouldn't want it spread around that we were shagging in the store room."

"Fred, this is the happiest I've ever been in a relationship. Why wouldn't I want everyone knowing? Also, I dunno if you know this, but you're well fit. You're a catch. I've done rather well for myself, Mr. Weasley."

"Oh, tosh. You're a lush bird, Granger. I'm the one who's made a catch."

She tugged him up for a kiss. "And to think of all the times I could have just __told__ Ginny. It's much harder to keep a secret from your sister than not."

"You don't think I know that? She's almost figured it out a few times, but I'd start talking about some other girl and throw her off the scent."

Hermione laughed, but then stopped. "What other girl?"

Fred kissed her. "Literally no one. I made her up. Gin might think there's some woman chatting me up at the Leaky Cauldron, though."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Who on earth would chat you up at the Cauldron?"

"Oi, now. She put me on the spot, she did," Fred insisted. "Besides, if we're telling people, I can just tell her it was you."

"Great. Then she'll think __I__ was chatting you up at the Leaky Cauldron."

"'Mione, I hate to tell you this, but you've been chatting me up all over Diagon Alley. I don't think it's really a lie."

"We've never been to the Leaky Cauldron together."

"We'll have to go then. Can't have me lying to my little sister on your account. You wily minx…" Fred kissed her lips once more, lingering just a touch longer than was strictly necessary. Or maybe it was Hermione who was lingering. Or both. She rather liked being his wily minx.

"Did you ever stop to think that __this__ was the problem?" Hermione brushed her fingers over his lips. "We've been doing nothing but snogging and shagging and we haven't been talking? That maybe if we'd been using our lips for something other than…" she trailed off, dragging her thumb down over Fred's bottom lip. "You know…"

"That we might have hit on this a lot sooner?" he finished for her, before sucking her thumb into his mouth momentarily.

"Well, yes. That."

He pushed up off the bed, grabbing his pants and tugging them on as he crossed the floor to the window.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, reaching for the sheet to cover herself.

"I'm going to make up for lost time, Granger. And show you once and for all that I have never been happier in a relationship than I am with you."

He reached for the window and threw it open, leaning out to look around.

The thing to be understood in this precarious situation, is that Fred occupied the flat above the shop. So by opening up the window and leaning out shirtless, he was essentially exposing himself to all of Diagon Alley.

"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN," he began, his voice loud and booming as he addressed everyone in the direct vicinity.

Hermione collapsed into a fit of laughter and attempted to burrow under the blankets. Her cheeks were flaming red.

"HERMIONE GRANGER AND I HAVE BEEN SHAGGING UP A STORM FOR THE PAST TWO MONTHS! SO MUCH THAT WE BARELY HAD TIME TO–"

He was cut off by a much louder screech from the sidewalk below.

"FREDERICK WEASLEY!"

It was a very familiar screech. The likes of which Hermione hadn't heard since her Hogwarts days and it was emanating from the bright red Howlers that Ron had gotten once or twice.

Hermione had to muffle her laughter in a pile of pillows.

"Oh. Hi, Mum…" he nodded downwards. "And young James too. I see you're out with your Gram…"

Hermione quickly summoned all her clothes, dressing in a hurry because she was anticipating a visit from Molly Weasley. As well as somehow explaining to a three-year-old what 'shagging' was.

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 **If you enjoyed this, consider leaving me some sugar in the comments? *hearts***


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